I suppose to begin this you should know a few things about me: I grew up on a dairy farm in a small town Pennsylvania. As the youngest out of five, I was denied the much desired stereotypical status of the spoiled youngest child, and instead can be paralleled to Atlas with the dependency my parents have on my role with the aid of the family farm. What I mean to say is that none of my siblings want to take over the farm, all five of us have bigger plans. So as the youngest, I have watched my older siblings leave for college, get a job, and begin chapters in their lives, meanwhile I have had to stay at the Hartle abode, feeling the pressure of additional responsibility weigh me down tremendously. As a result, my disposition towards that farm and transitively my parents is tense to say the least. I found myself in an awkward position, for my parents did not treat me with love and affection for their daughter, but then again, they did not treat me as an employee either, having never giving me a dime for my hours of hard labor and expecting me to do more of which than I was physically capable. From this, much bitter resentment has been built towards my parents, and it is not one sided.

The bitterness has since strengthened recently, when my mother informed me that she could not afford to pay for my college two weeks before my spring semester payment was due. I was heartbroken, to be honest, I was amazed that I came back to Quinnipiac University for spring semester. I could not believe that she just dropped that news on me, and left me with nothing. Both of my parents expect me to work on the farm during school breaks, and they do not pay me, not just because they cannot afford it, they inform me that I have a bed and get food and therefore should be grateful. But I find that it is difficult to be grateful towards a family who does not appreciate me in the slightest. Being there on that farm just wears me out, it exhausts me more than anything.

I do not mean to deliver the typical teenage angst. If that is your perception, please forgive me and let me clarify. My distaste towards my parents and family is derived solely from that farm. I see my father and how tired he is after working an eighteen hour day, every day, and he is just so miserable, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to remedy the situation. No matter how much I offer to help, or how much extra work I do, my father will still be incredibly exhausted. And that breaks my heart every time I see him. So if in this hypothetical world in which I would win $20 million from the lottery, I would give most of that money to my parents. I know it sounds cliché, but they need it. Despite everything, despite all of the bitterness and differences, that does not change that I am their daughter, they need me. And if I can help them, of course I will help them. That is just who I am.

You know, people have often asked me why I do it. Why do I bother helping out a family who does not really want to be a part of my life and has nothing to offer me in return. I just look at them, so perturbed. They’re my family. Regardless of how much I do not like being home, no matter how much they undermine my college education, they are still my family. I know that the root of the problems is that farm, I just know. I look at my parents, and I can just tell that they’re over it; they do not want to do it anymore and are bitter that no one wants to take the pressure off of them. So if I were to get that $20 million, I would call my mother, and I would help them pay off their debts, and whatever is left will go to my college education. My family does not have a lot of money, we did not have much when I was growing up, and we have even less now that I’m trying to leave it behind, and I know that such money would lift the weights off of my parents shoulders. They have so much debt, I really believe that just removing that pressure will make my mother less miserable, my father less tired, and essentially help their marriage. They just need my help, and if I could help them, I would. But I just cannot help them anymore. Yes, they’re in financial debt, but I’m in debt to them: I’m their daughter.

Since I have never had much, and have never been materialistic, I do not think they money would go to my head. I think it would be a lot like the farm: it’s not who I am, it’s just something that I did. I have never even dreamed of myself being some wealthy broad, hosting dinner parties for her husband’s prominent business company. My goal in life is to just reach the middle class. I think that may be why so many “new money” people lose it so quickly, they play up the big dream and are under the delusion that there are a lot more zeroes at the end of that check than they thought. But I’m not like that, I just want to get my parents out of their huge debt, and finally live above the poverty line. So when that check comes in, I’ll give my parents a call. They may not deserve it with the way they treated me, but I just couldn’t keep that money all to myself. I might just go crazy with greed otherwise.